Scorpio Invasion by Alan Burt Akers

bright a green. In the shadows of the distance the red roofs and white spires of a town appeared to float among the haze. The Suns would soon be gone.
    We camped aboard the voller for the night. We stood watch and watch. Although we might well have been safer had we continued to fly through the night there were two strikes against that course. One was that, even though we were in voller-less Loh, I was not altogether sure of blindly hurtling on through the darkness. The other was that I judged the experience would severely unsettle Rollo’s nerves.
    As is usual during an expedition, each meal may be your last. So I made sure we ate up well. This, then, formed the pattern of the succeeding period as we sped steadily on over Loh. More and more I came to appreciate Rollo’s qualities. I felt absolutely certain Deb-Lu could turn him into a first class Wizard of Loh. The weather grew warmer.
    “Drajak,” he said, one fine morning. “Do you intend to fly over Chem?” Now this was exactly the problem exercising my mind. Chem, tropical, clothed with jungles, fetid, stuffed with all manner of monsters, was not an inviting prospect. If we stayed aloft we should be safe, despite the certain sure presence there of gigantic flying creatures, all jaws and claws.
    “If we trend westwards and fly along the coast we may attract unwelcome attention.”
    “Shanks.”
    “Aye.”
    “Some seasons ago I saw Las-po-Wehning just after he returned from Chem. He’d had a good position there, for almost forgotten cities exist deep within the jungles. The folk are as ferocious and unforgiving as the monsters they combat. Las-po had a yellow skin, sunken burning eyes, thin to the bone, with the shakes. He swore by the Seven Arcades nothing would induce him to return to Chem.”
    “All the same, we would be flying.”
    “You mean, you fly these contraptions at night time?”
    I gave him a brief history of the troubles we used to experience with airboats we bought from Hamal. “Now Hamal is an ally they supply good vollers.”
    “You mean people risked their lives in these things knowing they could break down?”
    “That was in the bad old days.”
    I did not elaborate. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that much. The truth was, any voller might break down for a variety of reasons, however fine the craftsmanship and excellent the silver boxes. Even today.
    Rollo had the habit of abruptly changing the subject of conversation. He did this with a considerable measure of skill and with purpose. He’d come back to the original subject when it suited him. Now he said: “Your guards, for all your coddling of them, were most anxious to get into the fights ahead. They foresee many battles under your command as Emperor of Emperors, Emperor of Paz. They struck me as anxious to show the world their mettle.”
    This young feller-me-lad, this apprentice Wizard of Loh, had an old head on his shoulders — sometimes. He saw through outward appearances.
    “H’m,” I said. “I’m not too sure about that. They are well aware of my views on battles.”
    “Of course. But if you wish to be the Emperor of Paz—”
    “Just a moment, my lad! I don’t want to be the blasted Emperor of Paz! My Val! Just think of what that entails. What I must do is forge alliances, friendships, between the countries of Paz. And far too many of them are at one another’s throats as it is. That’s not a job any sane man or woman would want, is it now?” If he could see through outward appearances, as I have just indicated, surely he could see I didn’t want the rotten job?
    “There are people who would leap at it.”
    “Makibs, the lot of ’em. Look, you have a parcel of land that two nations claim. They go to war over it, and the issue is settled until the next war. I’ve got to go along to them both and mediate. I’ve got to sort out the problem. I’ve got to say one nation has the land and the other does not. Or I split it up. No matter what I decide, I’m wrong.